For Now
by Kenta Divina
Summary: The Crimson Hat: Jane tries to apologize to Lisbon, but she's not having it. He's desperate to the point of following her to the shooting range. It's been a long time since I've written FF, but this episode brought me out of hiding.


Author's Note: What's this? I'm back in the Fanfic world? The season finale of The Mentalist was really just that good. My brain would NOT stop. I'm really rusty at this, but please review!

For Now

Red John's pawn was under suicide watch. Lisbon finished the usual paperwork, but found her fingers fidgeting madly with her pen while staring out her office window toward the bullpen.

He was back. Patrick Jane, for all intents and purposes, was back on the team – albeit unofficially. But it was only a matter of time. Right now the chaos of Wainwright's death was a priority.

She should be happy… at least, that's what she tried to keep telling herself. Yet the past half-year, full of anger, bitterness, loneliness, and quite-frankly heartache, would not be easily swept under the rug. She and the team held it together quite admirably during the last part of Jane's con. She sensed their reluctance as soon as she let them in on the grand plan, and as Cho so brilliantly phrased it, they were really only helping her.

Suddenly furious, she threw her pen across the room at the white sofa that Jane had bought her last year. It wasn't enough. In a flurry of movement, Lisbon grabbed her coat, bag, and checked her pistol. Locking her office, she gave a short nod to her team.

"Go home. It's been a long week and it probably won't get any easier from here on out with Jane back in the picture."

Grace turned from her computer. "Boss, is he back? I mean… how can we be sure that he's not going to disappear again?"

Lisbon's hands clenched into fists, "He's not going anywhere. Not for a while."

"Why not?"

Cho answered for his boss with only a glance up from his book, "Because we have the girl. He want's to break her and he has to be here for that."

Lisbon gave her second a short nod. She couldn't help glancing at the worn brown couch in the corner before pulling her keys out of her bag. "Go home. I'm going to the shooting range for a bit."

"Going to blow off some steam, hey Boss?" Rigsby grinned, then coughed at Grace's glare. Lisbon gave him her own frown and silently stalked out of the room, ignoring Grace's whispered reprimand behind her.

The drive to the CBI shooting range was twenty minutes on a good day. Luck was on her side in that manner. Shared with the local police forces, there was always some other figure shredding targets in the underground range. Tonight, however, there was only one portly man in the cubicle near the doorway who gave Lisbon a half-smile and nod, not even removing his ear protection. She politely nodded in return before signing in with the officer in charge and picking out her ammo.

She walked to the cubicle at the far end, set down the clips of range-safe bullets, and drew her weapon. Dropping her personal clip to the side, she prepared a paper target and let it slide down to the backstop.

Loading her pistol with the range clip, Lisbon paused, and stared at the black silhouette, allowing herself to childishly impose the face of Lorelei over the target. Then she fired until her gun was empty. She pulled the target in and replaced it without even looking at her score. Replacing the target, she raised her pistol and emptied it a second time.

"Someone's angry." The voice was muffled through the ear muffs, but understandable.

Lisbon froze, then slowly turned her head to look over her shoulder at the hauntingly familiar figure, slouched against the blue-grey carpet that covered the walls of the shooting range.

Patrick Jane winced at the shots fired by the other range user, fingers in his ears. If she let herself forget about the last 24 hours, Lisbon almost would have laughed at him, but instead methodically reloaded a third time, firing the full clip into the head of her target.

"Lisbon."

She ignored him.

"Lisbon!"

The slide on her gun locked, signaling the end of another clip. If she wanted to continue, she'd have to go sign out another set from the range manager, which meant getting around the man standing behind her.

Lisbon slowly lowered her gun and set it down on the narrow table in front of her. She was tempted to leave her ear protection on, but that was a little much, even for her. Slowly she took it off, but refused to look at her former team member.

"Will you please listen to me?"

"Go away, Jane." She tried to move past him, but he wouldn't budge, angled in such away that she'd have to touch him – which was the last thing she wanted to do right at this moment.

"Lisbon, I just want to know if we are okay. We're not okay, okay… but I want to know if we're going to be okay."

She stared resolutely at the carpet by his shoulder. "I can't right now. Just give me this… just give me one more night where I can pretend you never came back. Where I can think you just really didn't give a damn and try to move on. Or, if you must, just stand there and shut up."

"I am sorry."

At that, Lisbon's control snapped over. She turned on him, and spat, "_Sorry_? You are _sorry_?"

In the back of her mind, she was glad she had put her pistol down or she might have hit him with it. Instead, she balled up her fist and punched him in the arm. "Sorry doesn't cut it! Not this time… Not after… "

To her horror, tears started threatening to fill her eyes. She tried to cover it up by punching him again, but he caught her by the wrist and pulled. The unexpected action had her jerking back and the resulting momentum only bringing him nearer. She found herself against the opposite side of the cubicle, back against the gunpowder-stained material. Jane pinned her arm to the wall above her head with one hand, the other gripping her waist. Shocked, she looked up at him.

Sea-green eyes were nearly blue and she recognized the torment in them. There was still the manic intensity, like just before he pulled the trigger on her in her office. There was that intensity, the fear, and a new awareness that had her heart in her throat. Jane held her gaze as he slowly leaned in, tilting his head to the side to rest against the carpet between her trapped hand and her ear.

"I am sorry, Teresa."

She inhaled sharply, about to tell him off again. The sudden scent of soap, aftershave and _Jane_ hit her in the stomach. To her humiliation, her following exhale included a whimper. His fingers twitched at the sound, the verbal slip revealing her weakness.

Jane's voice dropped, conscious of the range-master only a few yards off, talking with the other man who was now packing up his weapon. "I can't ever apologize enough to you. I can justify my actions, but I don't deserve to be listened to by anyone, least of all you. You shouldn't listen to me, Lisbon. You have every right to take that gun over there and shoot me. But know this…"

He turned his head so that his nose pressed into the curls just behind her ear. "I don't think I could ever leave you. Not willingly. Not while I have any free will, not controlled by _him_."

She trembled at the feel of his breath in her hair, but he continued. "Red John challenged me – he called my bluff. I had no control and it terrified me. I couldn't give you to him. He knew that – it's why he used you as my test to see if I had truly given up."

Lisbon was trying to breath normally, to pretend that his hold on her meant nothing but it was pointless. Every breath was full of him and she was drowning. Her free hand had come up to grip at his vest pocket. If she didn't know better, she would almost suspect him of hypnotizing her. He kept talking as if fearing, _knowing_ that this was his one and only confession for his most recent crimes.

"If I'd been asked to sacrifice any one else at the CBI, I might have considered it… even for a moment. Any of them… Grace, Cho, Rigsby… But you…" She heard him swallow harshly in her ear. "I know where we stand. I know what we are. But I meant it."

It may have been half a year since they had last seen one another, but Lisbon was still able to track his reasoning from Red John to that recent night in her office. Those two words spoken so carelessly that felt like lead in her heart. Those words they were going to pretend were never given. This time her hands twitched. Jane let her pull out of his hold, but didn't move.

Instead of shoving him away as he clearly anticipated by how his entire body tensed, Lisbon gently pushed him back until she could see his face. He frowned uncomfortably but met her searching gaze with his own.

Six months apart, and they still could read each other like open books in moments like these - private moments with no con. Reaching up, Lisbon let her fingers gingerly push a rebellious lock of hair off of Jane's forehead. His eyes softened, shifting back to their aqua-green.

Lisbon frowned, her CBI leadership training coming to light. "That may be, but as your boss, I won't let you walk all over me. It's not an excuse."

Jane actually flinched. "I swear, it never will be an excuse."

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Never an excuse," he caught her hand in his and pressed the backs of her fingers to his lips. "Just a fact."

Unable to stop herself, she asked, "And what of Lorelei?"

He smiled, dry and bitter. "That was an excuse."

Before she could voice her last question, Jane gave her a shadowed look and minutely shook his head. Even here, there could be eyes and ears belonging to their enemy. And like always, he already knew what she wanted to ask.

"It's dangerous enough for everyone involved. Let it lie." He leaned in as if to chastely kiss her cheek, only to breath in her ear, "For now."

This time she did push him away with a bit of force. Patting his face in an almost sisterly fashion, she snarked at him, partly in show, and partly in truth, "Do this to me again, and I will let Cho shoot you like he wanted to when you showed back up."

Jane smiled, laugh lines deepening at the corners of his eyes and warming the cold corners of Lisbon's chest. "He didn't want to shoot me. Punch me, maybe, but not shoot me."

Lisbon turned back to her gun, putting her live ammo back in place, and holstering her weapon before gathering up the empty clips. This time Jane let her pass and she glanced again over he shoulder at him.

"That might be true, but what do you have to say about Grace and Rigsby?"

Jane's mouth opened, then closed with a frown.

The end.


End file.
